Always In This Twilight
by VengefulMothSlayer
Summary: [ON PERMANTENT HIATUS] Alfred F. Jones. Who was he? Was he the hero that I proclaimed to be, or the spaces I left behind in the seats I sat on, or the empty eyes that looked back at me from the mirror? Warning: Child abuse, character death


**[OK, I know I shouldn't be doing this… I have The Fairy Patrol to update, after all… but, all things said and done, this might save me work, if nobody likes it… ]**

Arthur's eyes smiled at me from across a lonely cafeteria table. Acres of linoleum fields seemed to separate us from the rest of reality, and yet I, for the first time in so long, didn't feel so completely alone.

It didn't matter that we barely talked; maybe that was the best bit about it- Arthur never wanted me to say anything, unlike the other people that flitted in and out of the artificial corridors, who always expected something of me.

Alfred F. Jones. Who was he? Was he the hero that I proclaimed to be, or the spaces I left behind in the seats I sat on, or the empty eyes that looked back at me from the mirror?

[I felt

The loneliness

Like a plain

YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK]

"What were you saying?" I asked, trying to sound interested.

"We should probably be going to class now," he commented quietly, the lilt of his British accent barely even breaking through.

I checked my schedule and rolled my shoulders. "Drama. Great."

Arthur smiled quietly and finished packing up his books.

School is like a diorama, I observed. Perfect boxes filled with flat objects hung _just so_, to make somebody's emptiness a little better.

It didn't make mine any better.

000

"Class, today, we'll be working on solo performances!" Miss Ryan smiled energetically at the murmur that went around her students. The drama geeks were excited because most performances were in groups, the populars were pissy because they didn't get to spend the hour dry humping their so-called 'life partners', everybody else was apprehensive because it meant you had to come up with the thing on your own.

"Please come and get a part from me, and then go off and work out your performance!"

We filed into a line, disinterested, waiting for the exciting bit- like customers at Starbucks, or sheep.

[Stop. No. They are better than you. You have no right to think that way.

You don't deserve it.

STOP.

Curl up and hide

Where?

I'm a horrible person…]

"Alfred?" I looked up, having reached the top of the line. Miss Ryan smiled at me. "You looked a little zoned out there, buddy."

I smiled tightly, took my paper. The tendons in my hand strained as my nails struggled to lacerate the skin on my palms. "Thanks ma'am. Just staring into space."

[Idiot.

Pay attention.

TRY HARDER]

I opened my paper.

_Your name is Carl Andrews, an abused child. _

I felt sick. What was…

Some kind of fix-up? But nobody knew- I never said anything, I always hid the marks, what was this

[YOU IDIOT

YOU DIDN'T HIDE IT WELL ENOUGH

I tried to

THAT DOESN'T MATTER

YOU DIDN'T DO IT RIGHT

NOW THEY'LL TAKE YOU AWAY

Now they know what a failure I am]

Stop. Think. Just play the part.

You don't want to fail drama, do you?

[Just another thing to add to your list of failures.

Rip tear snarl I'm so alone I can't fight anymore

STOP BEING SO **WEAK**]

Carl Andrews. An abused child. Shouldn't be too difficult.

I ran out of the classroom with no excuse and threw up in the flowerbed.

Behind me, the little bit of paper fluttered weakly to the ground, a broken bird too young to fly. A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate.

The acid of bile burned my tongue and there were people all around me.

000

In dreams, I could feel fire on my skin, like a whip- but it was only broken glass, really, I deserved worse. I groaned and schooled myself to silence, the silent monk that followed me always. Cutting through my skin, I prayed, the touch of something so much better making me flinch and shield my eyes.

I lay in my bed that night, staring at the ceiling. Hunger howled in my stomach but it would find no sustenance. If I stole food, they would know.

Hours later and no sleep. Maybe water, anything, I thought I had the flu.

[You don't deserve water]

I told myself, but I left my room anyway.

The gleaming kitchen with its flat planes like a sea was filled with leering shadows. No food, they agreed. You should go back.

"Who's there?"

My mom's voice cracked like a whip through the spacious house, making the shadows cringe and sway before their master.

[She is so much better than you. Do not think of her that way]

I loved her. I loved my father too, as he held my arms and stayed silent. They hurt me, but I deserved it. Without pain, I would never learn.

They had taught me so much, I was so good, I lay silent and still as they beat my lesson into me. They would feed me when I needed to eat. If they had told me once, they had told me a thousand times, I shouldn't eat too much or I would get unhealthy. They were only trying to do the best for me.

But I was a stupid child and I didn't listen to their lessons when they taught me. I needed to be told again and again.

They didn't like what I had turned them into.

"I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry," I whispered and my whispers fell and echoed like teardrops in a still pool, sending tiny waves to distant shores where there was no pain, no suffering, where all the lessons were learnt.

Mummy slapped me over the face. "Don't say that! There's nothing to be sorry for. You need to learn, though."

"I'm trying, mummy," I whispered through numb lips.

"Well, try harder! And don't call me mummy, you're fifteen!"

"I will, mum. I will."

"Well, alright," stroking fingers wandering lost in my hair.

"Just give me a little more time," I said, almost silent.

"What was that?" her fingers were still.

"I- I just said to give me a little more time, I'm sorry, but I'm still only fifteen, I can't be perfect!"

SLAP. The stinging in my nose like a knife, making my eyes sting, water, I could feel blood running, it was broken-

"_Can't be perfect? CAN'T BE PERFECT? All I want you to do is to TRY to DO THE THINGS I TELL YOU FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! NOT TO BE PERFECT! I've been teaching you these things since you couldn't even walk, surely you should know them by now!"_

"I know mum," I pleaded, "I'm sorry-"

"SORRY DOESN'T _CUT IT!_" She yelled. 'You're just not good enough!"

"I'm so-"

"Shut the HELL UP, HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?!"

"I-"

There were still shadows in the edges of the kitchen, and the light glinted off the gleaming appliances like the bleached teeth of skulls in some forgotten desert. I felt myself drift away as my mother opened a draw.

"Back me up, Richard," She said in a voice of false quiet.

They both picked up knives.

As my soul flew among the oily clouds, and my skin cried angry tears of punishment, I watched the lightshow of angry gods play out a shadow-puppet tragedy on the cold window.

They left me on the floor to drag myself to the bathroom.

When the first chinks of morning light crept like thieves through the window, I still had not slept nor eaten.

000

"What's wrong?" Arthur quietly asked outside the school gate, watching me wince slightly at the straps on my shoulders.

I didn't say anything, so he shrugged and gave up.

I spent the day in a haze, struggling to see past the angels that raced through the fields of my vision. I could barely see the board. Maybe I needed glasses. I didn't know. I tried not to move my arms too much.

000

"Hey, Alfred!" Michelle called from behind me in line.

I turned around, wincing slightly as I moved my torso, and called back, all "Hey, 'chelles!" and honeyed sunshine in my voice.

"So, what's the deal? How'd you get the shiner?"

Think. The black eye. What's the excuse?

"Oh, it's nothing."

'Sure, it's something!"

"Well, there was this guy…"

"Go on?"

"At Maccas. Real tough."

"Uhuh?"

"And he was pissing off the counter girl. Coming onto her, yanno."

"Yeah."

"So I told him that if he was stupid enough to try and come onto a girl who didn't like him, to do it Red Rooster because I was waiting to order a burger."

She bit her lip, and with her dark hair falling in waves from their pigtails, she looked almost heartbreakingly cute. "Cool."

"So he punched me, of course."

"Of course."

"But it didn't matter, 'cuz everyone was laughing so he left, and the girl gave me half-price on the burger! I'm the hero!"

"Sounds cool," she said quietly.

Time for class.

000

I was a lying sack of shit.

I only wished that I could really be a hero, and help people.

But how could I help people when I can't even help myself?

000

I finished of my apple and stared disconsolately at the empty lunchbox in front of me. I was still ravenous, but that was all the food I had.

"Hey," Michelle said from behind me.

I took a moment to fix a bright smile on my face, and looked up.

"You wanna come sit with me?"

I looked over at Arthur, who had suddenly found his own lunchbox very interesting.

"Nah, I'm sitting by Arthur," I said quietly.

Her face got kind of weird because she sort of smiled in a really strained way, like she was stretching her lips. I knew how that felt.

"Yeah…" She said, and moved off.

"Man, I am SO hungry! I really need a burger," I said, checking my lunchbox once again.

"Alfred, you wolfed down your lunch like you had never seen food before! Surely you're not hungry again already," Arthur commented dryly, though I could see his fingers twitching like they wished to hold something.

"What? I'm a growing boy," I said happily. "I need food! And I only had cereal for breakfast, anyway."

Arthur rolled his eyes fondly. "That would be enough, for most people," he said. Then he left.

[NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME

I'M NOT THE SAME

Insufficient]

000

When I got home again, I tried to finish my homework but I couldn't concentrate. But I didn't want to steal food again.

That wouldn't' be good.

000

**So yeah… This was supposed to be a oneshot but I don't know what to do with it now so…**

**I know what it's like to not feel good enough. But I've always had people around me to assure me that I have nothing to worry about. **

**Yes, my darlings, I **_**did**_** get "Always In This Twilight" from "Cosmic Love" by Florence + The Machine. If you spotted it, I love you! If not, then listen to the song! Yes, I agree, It's probably not about a father-son abusive relationship, but if you listen to the lyrics, it kind of fits. And no, I have no idea what exactly inspired this, either. **

**The general idea was also probably inspired by Concrete Angel, by Martina McBride. Watch the music video, read the lyrics, anything. Actually, it nearly moved me to tears. See lyrics at: . **

**It's funny how many songs you can twist to suit your own needs- try "My Immortal", by Evanescence. It's USUK, Revolutionary War, England POV. No I am not shitting you, I did manage to find yaoi in a song by Evanescence. **

**When you have a twisted mind like mine, you can never be bored. **

**Now the question that faces us today is this: Should I write a fic based on that? I've never written RW before… Could be interesting… **

**Wow. Long rant. Why? Why…?**


End file.
